


Among Challenges

by Skeren



Series: World Glimpses [6]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Accidentally a Threesome, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Cats, Fights as Flirting, M/M, Multi, Rumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenge Stories from when I was posting mainly to the Insanejournal community. More specifically, oddball pairing/scenario challenges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> All of these were written back in 2007.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse had a bit of difficulty with the cat.

It wasn't the first time, or the second time, or even, unfortunately, the third time that something like this had happened. In fact, he wasn't even sure exactly how many times it had been, but the way he grabbed the cat and rolled off the bed was turning into a practiced feat. The unhappy groan of misery that left his naked partner was no better, being well rehearsed and pitched at the exact frequency to indicate how utterly horribly timed the interruption was. 

If he was being perfectly honest, he wanted to make that exact noise himself. He would like to have sex in peace, he really would, but the bedroom doors didn't have locks, and the cat seemed to know how to get the knobs to turn. She had since she was all of four months old. And, since then, he had yet to figure out how to have sex in his bedroom without the cat darting in and planting herself on his lover's chest, or back, or some body part of his by way of protest. 

It had been going on almost three weeks now, and he had to admit that no matter how soft hearted he was about the cute fuzzy animals, his body wasn't appreciating the stop and go sex nearly so much as he might have hoped it would. 

Twisting his hand so he was nose to nose with the cat while he padded down the hall, he sighed. "Why can't you just be good and leave me alone with brother, hmm? You never do this to Jean when he comes to stay with us."

She just licked him on the nose by way of answer, giving a soulful look that made him sigh even more deeply. At least she was a quiet cat, it did make some things easier since they didn't lose any sleep because she was noisy. Not that he figured his brother would ever lose sleep over a cat of all things, but he knew he would be compelled to fuss, and _that_ would keep the other Elric awake until the oddest hours. It was like he had a tracking system or something. 

Not that he minded, he loved his brother in all ways possible, even if some of them were a bit… unique. He was just glad their mutual lover didn't seem to mind so much as understand that it just came with the territory. He was a good guy. 

And someone who seemed to have an anti-cat pheromone he was completely sure that brother wanted to get bottled so that they could have sex in peace. Locking the cat in the bathroom didn't work, they tried that before and she just managed to jimmy the lock until she could get out and get to them. That time had been worse, because she'd ended up running across them and it had taken some quick distraction to keep his brother from going after the cat while death was on his mind. 

Blue balls weren't even the least little bit fun and he could more than admit it was, while novel, not a sensation he really had wanted to get intimately acquainted with. 

"You know you brought this on yourself." Turning his attention back to the cat in his grip, he sighed. "I want to have sex and you're just bungling it all up for me. So you're going to be in the basement until we're done."

The words got a piteous mew, and the cat tried to twist out of his grip. She was a smart thing, and that just proved to him that she knew exactly what she was up to.

"We know that you don’t like it down there, but if you'd stayed out of the bedroom, it wouldn't have been a problem. Would you rather I leave it to brother to find something to do with you? He'd put you outside you know, and it's _snowy_ out there." He pointedly showed her the window. "And we both know how much you don't like snow, now don't we?"

When that just got more frantic wiggles out of the cat, he padded the rest of the way to the basement and stuck her through the door. "I didn't think so. You stay there. I mean it." 

Giving her a very stern look, he dropped the cat on the top of the landing and quickly closed the door before she could jump back out.

* * *

He laid on the bed while he waited for Al to come back, staring up at the ceiling on a sigh. He didn't get why this was such a big deal. The cat should just stay out of their damn love life. It was a cat, they were people, the two did _not_ mix, and it was rather creepy that she kept managing to barge in. 

If putting her in the basement didn't work, he was going to start fusing the door to the wall, and he knew _that_ would work, completely guaranteed. At least, he liked to think it was completely guaranteed, because if it wasn't, that was just… disturbing was the word he was looking for. He could just see the news now. 'Brothers denied sex by cat.' Well, if it ever hit the news anyway.

That would be entirely new levels of horrible of course, since things would go downhill, Jean would get in trouble for having known about them, social stigmas would be all over the place, on down the list of horrible things he never ever wanted his brother to experience.

And he should really stop thinking about that if he wanted to still be in any kind of shape to take up where they left off, because if there was anything worse than blue balls, it was giving someone _else_ blue balls because you'd gone and made yourself impotent by accident. He also knew he'd never live it down, so he'd just stop thinking those horrible thoughts now. All of them. 

Using the most effective method he could think of, he closed his eyes and just visualized his lovers. It worked amazingly well. At least, until he felt the sensation of paws on his chest. 

Instead of opening his eyes, he just sighed. "Al, why is the cat on me?"

"She started whining and scratching at the door, I couldn't leave her down there."

The apologetic tone made him want to grumble, but he didn't. Instead, he just picked up the cat and held her away from himself as he opened his eyes and got off the bed. "Right. Okay, Al? I'm going to use alchemy to solve our problem now, and then we're going to have sex." 

Padding past his sibling, the elder Elric just dropped the cat out the door. He was going to get sex, and damn it, he wasn't going to wait for another week for Jean to get back in town to have the chance either.

Once he was finished barricading them in, things went much more smoothly.

If one ignored the noise anyway.


	2. All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loz did his best.

The explosion hadn't quite had the results they wanted. Yes, it had slowed the bastards down, took out the bikes, but they were at least giving Strife something of a chance, leaving him with one instead of three on his tail. In the flurry of action after the bomb set off, he'd been separated from his partner, leaving him once again eye to eye with the hulking figure of one of Sephiroth's remnants. 

He could almost hear the fighting off to his left somewhere, but he didn't pay it all that much attention. It wasn't like Reno was about to need his help with the one he had, so better just to focus on the one that apparently had too much of a liking for him.

"You again. Do we get to play some more?" 

-o-o-o-o-

The answer had been no, though the Turk had more than said yes in actions, and he had to wonder if he didn't understand how it was supposed to go. You don't say no and attack, that was… that was _contrary._ He'd heard Yazoo use that word a few times to describe something, or someone, who wasn't doing what they were supposed to be, so it worked here.

Rude knew how to play, even if he did seem surprised every time they did. It was like he almost didn't get that it was supposed to be _fun_. Sure it hurt, but that was okay, because people never got anything good if it didn't hurt at least a little. He didn't know how to say any of that though, so he didn't try. Instead, he tried to show him.

Grinning, he lunged, striking hard enough to send the man flying.

-o-o-o-o-

He wouldn't admit that the man was good at this. He also wouldn't call it playing; no matter how much the silver haired man seemed to relish in the idea of it being that. It wasn't, and that was just about all he counted. Playing was explosives, drinking, and maybe, _maybe_ a good brawl if you were Reno. There weren't enough people for him to call this a brawl, and Reno was busy elsewhere. 

Still, he was getting a good workout, working on the holes in his defense and figuring out how to land in the rubble without getting himself stabbed. He wasn't paying so much attention to the changing atmosphere around them, because it wasn't really all that important. No, he needed to keep his bones intact first, anything else last. 

At least the damage from the explosion was slowing the man down. That was definitely a bonus. 

Downside? He'd broken his sunglasses again.

-o-o-o-o-

He could hear his brother and the redhead going back and forth, the occasional barb between quick and swift blows. Loz didn't really get why a person would bother with that. If you liked someone, then arguing with them wasn't going to get them to like you back, it just didn't work that way. It was a waste of air and was so _silly_. 

There were better things that you could do with that, things like getting sweaty and close, slamming someone hard into a wall and kissing them, things that he _wanted_ to do but never really had the time for. So why did his brother always waste even more time when they never really had any to spare in the first place? 

Kadaj always kept them moving, and he never got a chance to play with people sturdy enough to handle it. Every time he did he got pulled away before he got to do anything really _fun_. He wasn't stupid, he knew things were going to slip zippy fast through his fingers again if he didn't do anything with the time he had right this second. 

Before something happened again. 

-o-o-o-o-

He lost all his breath in a rush when he was slammed into the ground this time, not a throw, or a punch, but a full body tackle. It likely wouldn't have been so bad if the ground had been flat instead of full of protrusions and rubble, but at least the place he landed had the benefit of not being on fire or melted. Some debris from the explosion was still falling, and it had been less than pleasant when he had found the last one during this little match when he'd stumbled a while before. 

He didn't like the idea of being accidentally caught on fire. 

Getting his hands up between them to do some damage while he strove to recover lost air, he ended up fumbling instead when lips came down on his, wholly unexpected and something of a shock in the fact that it wasn't quite unwelcome. 

He kneed the man in the groin.

-o-o-o-o-

He jerked back out of the kiss with a grunt, feeling a bit betrayed by the fact the man even did that. That wasn't how you were supposed to play! He wanted to glare when that got a brief flicker of a grin through the stoicism, but he didn't because not only did that hurt, but it seemed that the man had, sort of, gotten the point. Finally. 

He just sort of wished he'd gotten the point on a less sensitive part of his anatomy, maybe his head, or his chest, even a winding blow would have been better than him going for _there_. The reflexive protection of there meant that he lost his grip and the other man managed to get mostly to his feet again before he recovered.

By the time he was on his feet too, the moment was gone, and he just knew he was never going to get a chance at it again. That wasn't fair at all, but lots of things seemed to not be fair. Still, he could be wrong and he would at least try, even if the skies had gotten dark and there were clouds that hadn't been there before. 

He was about to spring back into movement when he heard his brother, Yazoo's voice instantly earning his full attention and freezing him to the spot. "Loz, we have to go."

"Yazoo?" He didn't like being so still, everything ached when he was, and he wasn't really used to that feeling. It meant bad things. 

"We have to go. Kadaj needs us. We _have_ to go."

He wavered a little in indecision, but Kadaj was really more important than wishful thinking. Family was more important. Nodding to himself, reconfirming his choice, he backed away, leaving the other man unsteady on his feet so he could go with Yazoo.

There wouldn't be time later, but at least he'd seized his chance. It was the best he could do.


	3. Given Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greed set Roy on his path.

There were many soldiers that were cast away as the war cycled through, a decent portion turning into pets, experiments, or delegated to death without a second thought. Others, surprisingly not the majority, were more fortunate, going home to their families, and those were the ones that were perhaps the most unlucky in the grand scheme of things. They were given a pat on the back, maybe a medal for genocide, and then they were cut loose to drift on the wind until the next battle, and sometimes, if they'd been injured badly enough, for the rest of their lives. 

They weren't given any chances to recover, honestly given a way to get loose from the hair trigger that could lead to them accidentally killing a loved one who had made the mistake of trying to wake them in the morning or from a nap by the fire. They were the ones that were trapped in the guilt and the lack of understanding as to what the war had been for. They were the ones left to wonder why they had even needed to kill in the first place, and they were the ones that, ultimately, most despised their lives and themselves for things they could not change. Even if they could, in many instances they would not, because they were afraid of what that change might bring.

Usually, Greed preferred to collect the type that never got to go home, not the dead of course, but the pets, the experiments, that type was something else entirely. They were sharp edges and unbroken lines. They were the ones that were never given a chance to back down from the edge, and would be less likely to die because of maladjusted hair-trigger reactions. They would always need them, so that outlook would never be out of place. They were the ones that were exploited, and the ones that nobody else wanted. They would not be missed, and ultimately that was for the best, because even if no one else wanted them, he did. 

He liked the ones that could keep secrets most especially. Often those were the ones that had been cast aside, who had become the secret as they were changed irrefutably for better or worse. They were almost always unique once they hit that point, and Greed always had been fond of things that nobody else realized the worth of. Usually, it was too late if someone did, and he wasn't the type to give trinkets back to their original owners.

Thus it was that he lurked on the edges of the war, the labs, the places where people would come and go, be destroyed and recreated. He had sensed an end nearing, and he made sure to keep enough distance that his freedom wasn't liable to be ripped asunder. It was slow, ever more so than if he had boldly strode into the labs and taken what he wanted, but it was worth the effort. One day he even saw something he wanted that he had to let go. 

It was an alchemist, of course. They always had been irresistible in their own way, specialties odd or twisted, rarely sure in anything but always unique even when lacking differences. The one in particular that caught his attention had a love of fire. 

He wasn't the only one, of course, alchemists having been sent en masse to make an end of the killing that had been ripping its way up and down along the country, but he'd still had a chance at that one, and he'd taken it as it came to him. He knew the man wasn't one he would be able to keep, not with the killing finally coming to a close, but he would at least leave an impression, a mark that could say that this person had crossed his path and was forever changed by the touch of Greed.

Not everything was immediate gratification, even if he did want everything.

The day of the opportunity came after the fighting had been called to a halt. Weeks after he had seen the man in the first place actually, and he almost walked by him before realizing who he'd seen. He did, of course, know his name, he took care of checking on his interests. The glimpse was enough for him to trail the man at a discrete distance, curious as to what it was he was doing during his stopover between the hell of war and hell of normal life. 

When all he did was move further from people, he'd taken it as an engraved invitation to approach, which he, being who he was, took with all graciousness. The alchemist still ended up startled by his presence in spite of his never having tried to hide. 

The conversation started simply, with a question.

"Looking for something?"

Surprisingly for him, though, the question wasn't one he had given. "Me? Always. You can never find anything if you stop looking, now can you? What about you? Are you looking for something out here?"

"I meant from me actually." A silence drew out before the other man collected himself, words quiet and ambiguous when he continued, apparently realizing the other man was still waiting on some sort of answer. "I'm not looking for anything. I've found enough."

"Oh? What did you find?" Dark eyes cut to him at the question, though all he offered in return was an innocently curious look. 

"Death. Destruction. It isn't worth looking anymore." 

"Really? I've always been in the mind that there is always something worth looking for. How did you come to your epiphany? Was there an accident?"

"No. I'm a soldier actually, a State Alchemist. I was in the war."

"You know, I've never quite been able to figure out what the war was for. Was it for greed? To get the land from the natives?"

"No. There were other reasons than that, deeper ones."

"There were? What were they?"

At that point there was another pause, and he watched a sense of almost disbelief cross the man's face as he tried in vain to remember the answer. "I don't know."

"You never asked?"

"There was never a reason to."

"But you killed people, right? You have no idea why?"

"No."

"Maybe, then, you should find out. It would benefit you."

"How? What reason do you have to care about my place in the scheme of things?"

He was the quiet party this time, and after a long bout of reflection, he flashed his sharp-toothed smile. "I take care of all worst the mistakes the war caused, so why not you?"

"Mistakes?"

"If you look in the darkest places, I'm sure you'll find out."

He'd frowned, but that was fine. Less so was the fact he hadn't pursued the point. "What's your name?"

"Mine? I'm just Greed." Neither side had anything else to say, at least that the alchemist was willing to admit to. "I hope you do something with what I've said."

"Why?" Such a confused voice that had been… but that had been somewhat his intention. 

"Because it's worth it."

Deliberately dropping a sheet with a clue, just enough to get the man looking, he walked away. Now he just had to wait and see if the man found his way back to him. Perhaps then it wouldn't be stupid to try to keep him like it was now.

Only time would tell.


	4. Ought to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno wasn't thrilled with Rufus' tactics.

"You, boss, are a bastard, y'know that?" Reno was ignored as he came into the office, clothes askew and generally looking like he'd been either having a rather good time or a horrible one. 

"I've had it mentioned every so often." He didn't look up to grace the man with attention. Showing Reno respect was rather like waving a flag in front of a predator. It certainly wouldn't make the man leave any more quickly and, in this case, that was the goal.

"Yeah, well, this is whole new levels of bastardum for you. Congrats. What the _fuck_ are you telling people about my sex life for? You don't even know! What the hell did I do to piss you off enough to butt in on that little no man's land of prestige you love so damn much? Huh?" 

A goal that didn't seem to be working. Fair enough, the man seemed decently upset. He wasn't an idiot, contrary to whatever he might have convinced anyone into over the years. Lifting his head with a smirk, he rested his hands on the edge of his desk and pushed his chair back. "And what makes you think I did a thing, Reno? Why would I risk muddying myself in _your_ activities, hmm? Speak quickly now, I've things to do."

When the redhead stalked closer, he didn't follow him with his gaze, snubbing him as no threat to his person in spite of whatever training he knew the man had. He'd never thought the man was stable after all, though it was entirely possible that the same could apply to him at times. Not that he would say as much, of course, he had a company to run. Still, that resolve was the likely cause behind the lack of reaction as the man leaned around the chair back and spoke directly in his ear. "You think that you being the President now gives you the right to start shit with me?"

He didn't move away, back staying straight in the chair as he caught a flash of pale hands out of the corner of his eye, then felt cool of metal under his chin. He didn't tense. If the man killed him, even his ilk wouldn't forgive him, and marks would be too obvious to that weapon. Reno knew both, and it was possible he didn't care, but the possibility instilled no real fear in him. "You think you being a Turk, _my_ Turk, means I fear you?"

"You, Shinra, are just a pansy pretending to play house now that his daddy's gone." His Turk pulled back the weapon as he kicked the chair into a spin so it would face him, a show of annoyance that was punctuated as hands leaned on either arm. "Don't fuck with me, you won't like what I do."

Feeling his smirk grow, he settled back in his chair, eyes raking over the slender figure in front of him. Dismissive and unimpressed were very good words for the cold air practically seeping out of his skin. "Oh? And what exactly would you dare do Reno? What _can_ you do, hm?"

"I can do enough. Teach you that just cause I enjoy myself doesn't mean I'm free to ride. Believe it or not, I am _not_ the town bike, and I don't appreciate people tagging me off as some kinda whore on the in. cor. rect. fucking rumors you've been spreading around! So just tell me, why the hell did you do it? Did you _want_ me to come and give you the details? You could have asked! You own my life here, comes with the territory, or did you just want to see if I'd really hurt you if you pulled this shit? Huh? Tell, I'm waitin!"

When the man bounced the chair a bit with the force of a shake given to it and stood back, he just followed him with his eyes, the smirk having once again turned to a dismissive look. "Are you finished Reno?"

The red haired man kicked the desk once, hard, then leaned his hip on it, one hand curled tight around the mag rod with the other on the flat top of the surface. "Conceited fucker. Yeah, I'm finished. For now." 

"Certain of that?" He arched an eyebrow, but didn't give him a chance to move into another spiel of commentary, accusations, and tripe, instead just finding a comfortable position in his chair. "You need to step back from the situation and think for a moment Reno. Why would I feel the need to install myself into your sex life, and even had I the inclination, when would I have the time, hmm? Even this conversation is turning onerous merely by virtue of you distracting me from more important matters. Your job may concern security and keeping people from finding out secrets therein while protecting my person, but I believe you are looking in the wrong direction to fuel your clearly flagging investigative talents. Find someone else to fulfill your need for attention, I've things that need my focus far more than you."

He didn't quite get the chance to turn his chair, nor did he really expect it considering how disbelieving Reno had started to look by the end of his statements, though annoyance had been clear as well. Satisfying, yet still, the man grabbing his chair when he went to return his attention to the paperwork couldn't be left unnoted, so he leveled an icy stare at the hand restraining the movement. "You know, boss… you sure talk a hell of a lot for someone trying to tell me to go away." The icy stare was transferred to the man's face, and the blue gaze he saw there looked thoughtfully intense. "I mean, you could have ordered me right out the second I busted in here, you've done it before, so why didn't you?"

The only way he even bothered to grace the question was with a slowly arched eyebrow, his icy look never budging. Not that it ever phased the man, but there was some principle in the matter. Not all of it had to do with reactions, but actions must never fade from constancy when dealing with certain individuals. It would set an unhealthy precedent. 

Smirking in a fashion that made the man look as though he knew something, or realized something perhaps, the redhead leaned in close, voice dropping a bit in tone. "And here I thought it was done in spite." He didn't lean away from the man as he got closer, just watching him as he had when the man had threatened his life a short while before. The kiss was clear, expected, and he only reacted so far, not really enough to encourage, but not enough to convey disgust either. The redhead didn't linger, but he did back off quickly considering that the glare had never faded, even through the actions, a grin crossing his lips and his spirits visibly bolstered. "No need to worry prez, I don't kiss and tell."

Finally clear to do so, he turned to his desk, dismissing the man with actions before he spoke, tone just as clear as his body language. "You would regret it if you did. Out, before I decide you've offended me more than your diatribe already has." The man obeyed this time, swinging the mag rod between his fingers as he sidled out of the room.

He glanced to the door as it clicked shut, a small, pleased smirk coming to his lips. It wouldn't take long at all to have the man at heel… now that the Turk had the idea at least.


	5. Shift in Conduct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth has questions for Zack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe that ending where I did in this one was unintentional, as I usually tried to be less abrupt.

His mind had been roaming. Not that this was bad, considering the sheer boredom that had accompanied their current post, but it had led his mind to stray in directions he usually never allowed it to go. Sitting back from his desk, he looked around the room, conventional, usable like such outpost offices tended to be, then he turned his gaze to Zack.

He knew the man trusted him, doing as told with more than a small bit of enthusiasm. The attitude might even have been considered perky, which he found he didn't mind as much as he felt he really should. None of that, however, helped his restlessness, and his idle thoughts were still lingering at the edges of his mind. 

He decided he would ask. If nothing else, he would finally know the answer to his musings, and they would go on their way. Preferably without any problems rising from it. "Zack."

The other man glanced over at him, curiosity the only thing roused by his name. "Yeah, Seph?" 

Meeting the look, he kept his voice level, no more curious than the look he was receiving already. "What would you do if I hurt you?"

"Were you trying to hurt me?"

He shouldn't have been surprised that Zack showed no surprise, especially not considering how long they'd been working together. Still, the man could have misinterpreted. "I wasn't talking emotionally Zack."

"Same question holds, Seph. Was it intentional?"

Interesting… Nodding slightly, he took in Zack's posture, the lack of tension. "Very likely."

"Then I would wait til you healed me." The words were said simply, without any hesitation. It didn't seem to quite fit, though he couldn't say it was misplaced either.

Sitting forward, he pressed the idea, seeing if the composure would change. "And if it was an accident?"

"I would just heal myself." The gaze stayed even, the words remaining casual, though there was a very definitive quality to them. "But not if you gave me the marks on purpose."

His own voice, however, was slowly getting more curious with the reactions. "And if I didn't heal them?"

"You gave them to me for some purpose. It's not my place to heal them." That seemed to be it. Nothing having changed in spite of the oddity of his questions.

Getting to his feet, he moved over to where the other man was sitting, leaning to study his face, trying to pick out something other than the sincerity practically rolling off the man. "You would just let me hurt you?"

"Of course." Again, that firm tone, though this time it was stressed a little, as it to emphasize that there was really no need for him to continue asking.

It was hard to get his mind around the idea that it really might have just been that simple. "And if I did something else?" Moving a hand, he brushed his fingers over the dark hair, not quite clarifying his point, but testing it.

"Whatever you wanted Seph." He studied him, glowing violet eyes getting a bit more intense, though his voice softened. "Didn't you realize that I belong to you?"

That clarified the reason for the man's answers, but that didn't mean that he had known. Slowly tangling his fingers in his hair, he shook his head. "No." When Zack did nothing more than wait, apparently letting him come to terms with the new turn in his reality, he slowly tightened his fingers, tipping the man's head that way. There was no fight to his action. "That puts an entirely new perspective on things."

"It's always been that way, Seph." The words were still soft, quiet, and he watched the man's eyes go lidded. Still no fight in him, not even a hint of it.

He was a little disappointed in himself he'd been so oblivious, though perhaps that hadn't been why he'd failed to notice. "Perhaps, but it's no good if I never realized, now is it?" 

"True." Moving one hand, he let his fingers frame his jaw, tracing the bone before he ran his thumb across the other man's lower lip. And Zack just let him, not even seeming worried about the vulnerable position he'd been placed in.

It made him want to test how deep that resolve went. "Anything Zack?" For once glad he wasn't wearing his gloves, he pressed his nails to the side of his neck, trailing them down in a way that was sure to leave at least temporary marks.

And still, the man just let him do it. "Anything."

Small actions weren't drawing out a reaction, and words could still be words. He wanted him to prove them though. Did he really mean that? He seemed to, but there was really no telling if him reaching a certain point would cause the man to finally go 'no more'. So, he would test. Tightening the fingers of the hand in his hair, he slid the other hand further down, along his front as he started to undo the clasps and catches on the man's shirt. 

He got as far as getting the material undone before he caught the small smile, and that brought him back to why he'd asked in the first place, his musings. Letting his hands come to a still, he studied that smile. "Do you have any small blades Zack?"

There was a pause, but it didn't seem to be hesitance and the words the other man finally spoke were thoughtful. "I don't think so. My boot dagger isn't exactly small…"

That was still better than he had really expected the man to offer, and he decided that would work perfectly well. They didn't need to be tiny, just something where he didn't find himself across the room while trying to put it to use. "Small enough."

The smile didn't waver when he pulled the man to his feet. If anything, the man was almost bothering him with the quiet intensity of the allowances as he was directed him towards the room where they'd been sleeping. He gave him more of a push than was likely needed on releasing him near the bed, enough force put behind it that he knew it would cause a stumble. Eyes narrowing a little at the fact that all of this seemed to either please or amuse the other man, who simply regained his balance and looked his way again, he gestured at him, the action starting upwards and indicating the man's entire body.

"Strip." Watching as the man started to do as told, he only waited long enough so that he could collect the blade once it had been unsheathed, then moved off to the bathroom, collecting a stack of towels. 

This was going to be messy, and he was well aware of that. Not deadly, no, but he wasn't intending to be even remotely gentle with the man either. If he meant it, then this would prove it, if he didn't, then it was nothing that he hadn't asked for in his declaration. Only sparing a glance to see that Zack was nude, he started laying the towels out over a section of bed, making sure they covered a decent amount of area. Less blood to be questioned about later if it seemed through the bedding.

He only looked to the other SOLDIER again once he was finished, pausing to take in the patient way he was holding himself for a moment before flicking his fingers at the toweled section of bed. "Lay down on those."


	6. Special Opportunity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno considered this the best idea ever.

Sometimes it really wasn't all that hard to get himself in trouble. This time would be one of those, of course, just for the simple fact that he'd walked in on something unexpected, not to mention very, very hot, not three seconds ago. Okay, unexpected might have been putting it just a bit too lightly because this was one of those guilty, or in his case not so guilty, fantasies that he only _wished_ he'd had the foresight to come up with.

Now, he might have been more than willing, Hel's grace he'd have been happy to, let's just screw willing, just sit back in the doorway and feast his eyes on the show. If he hadn't thought it would get him caught, not to mention shot or stabbed, he might have hurried off to get a camera and circle back for pictures. He was pretty sure no camera feed had a particularly good angle on what those two were doing at the moment.

Both of those options were nicely null and void, of course, by the fact that he'd not only been spotted before he'd taken a look see and had seen _them_ , but he was being stared at. He'd heard them first, the distinct staccato of hitched fast breathing and rhythmic movement, and that had led to him actually trying to figure out who, not what, there was no mistaking what, was making the noise. 

He hadn't particularly expected to end up frozen in place by the look, and he sure and the hell hadn't thought it was going to be the Great Silver General, Demon of Wutai, what the fuck ever he was being called in the tabloids today on the other end of it. He didn't expect the guy to be on top of his boss either, not the top boss, or the not quite top boss, of course, that one he actually _had_ sort of expected considering how much of a prissy bitch said boss was. No, this was his _real_ boss, the one likely to keep his ass from getting pistol whipped if he went and did something he wasn't supposed to. He was just special and patient like that.

He knew, of course, the guy wasn't a cold fish, but he'd been under this misguided impression, somehow, that the guy was, maybe, into _girls_. Apparently even if he was, he sure and the hell didn't _only_ go for girls. Or maybe Sephiroth was just real good in the sack, demanding, persistent… fuck, he sure and the hell wouldn't say no if he'd been in the man's place. He was getting hard just looking at them, and they weren't even doing anything now.

Which brought him right back around to the moment at hand and the fact that said guy was staring, maybe even starting to glare, at him just for being there. Not to mention the fact he'd apparently stopped moving, because Tseng had looked around and pinned him with his gaze too, and if the one wasn't glaring, he sure and the hell knew that the darker of the two was. He'd been on the other end of that look often enough to know. 

He was about to say something, or do something maybe, when the General broke off the look to dip his head down to talk to the other Turk. He couldn't hear what they were saying because they were whispering, and he damned the hair, all too much of it in fact, for getting in his way so he couldn't read what they were talking about off their lips either. He might _still_ have done something if they'd both turned their attention to each other again, but they hadn't. Instead Tseng, the inscrutable bastard, was giving him a look that said if he moved, at all, there would be hell to pay. How that still worked when he was half-naked under another guy he _really_ didn't know.

Of course, it could have just been a system of rewards working in his favor, because when the green gaze flicked back his way Tseng went and decided to talk, and damn but he sounded good, voice still full with the normal stern crisp tone but with a definite husk that made it plenty obvious what they'd been up to. "Close the door."

Finally breaking out of his frozen state, he couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face as he stepped back, using his heel to close the door behind him before he leaned back on it, his thumbs hooked in his waistband. "You two really don't need to stop 'cause of me, I can stay quiet and be a good mouse if y'want. Promise."

"No. Come here." This time the words from the big man himself, and he darted his eyes from Tseng to Sephiroth, not all that sure how he wanted to take that speculative gleam in his eyes, but hey, he'd already told himself he wouldn't say no, right? 

Time to prove it, if only for his oh so special internal monologue. That monologue had done him some serious favors in his life, he did have to say. Got him in lots of trouble too, sure, but it brought him to this point, to this place and moment, where just about a third of the population would pay in blood to be. Sauntering closer to the pair, his smirk grew, and he took in the fact he was very much not wrong about what they'd been doing, the sharp scent of sex more than apparent in the air as he got a better look at how they were arranged. "And what am I coming over here for, eh? You already turned down me being a good audience."

When he got close enough, a tapered, gun callused hand darted out and grabbed the edge of his shirt to drag him down to his knees, the level they were at. Tseng's voice was a bit rough, but perfectly understandable. "Reno. If you don't shut up now and find something to do with yourself, I _will_ shoot you."

"Oooh, kinky." He glanced from one to the other and his smirk slid into a sly grin, fingers slipping between them quickly just to make sure there wouldn't be any changed minds, then he lightly squeezed what he found there, earning a sharp inhale.

The word got a glare from Sephiroth, but his actions didn't reflect it, and that worked out plenty fine for him. It didn't take long before they apparently were both satisfied with his being there, and things proceeded far more interestingly from that point. 

Later, if it had been his thing, he would have gloated, long and loud. Instead, he just scared people with his oh so pleased smile when they finally untangled, heading off to deal with their separate tasks. If this _was_ a regular thing, he'd just have to make a note to walk in on people without warning more often. Or, at the very least, rig up some cameras in the building that were angled better.

Okay, so he'd be doing that last anyway. Just in case. 

But a man could certainly hope for the best.


End file.
